


Little Things We All Need

by lunaseemoony



Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Flirting, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DI Hardy is shocked when DS Rose Tyler finally reaches out to him and asks him out to dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things We All Need

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by snufflestheanimagus on tumblr. Thank you dear!

As the antiseptic old clock on the precinct wall chimed seven, DS Tyler’s head crashed on her desk, not from fatigue but frustration. She’d just read the same line in this file five times in a row and learned nothing more from it than she had the first time. She’d be damned before letting her boss see her go home before him though, so she tended to stay until he called it a night. The only problem was he usually stayed late. Rose wondered if he ever slept. He practically ate the case for dinner each night. Not tonight, Rose told herself. It was Friday, and she was aching to make something of it for once. That and she was bloody tired. 

“Hey, I’m gonna turn in early tonight. I can’t concentrate. I’m beat and starving.” 

“Yeah, all right. Have a good one Tyler,” Hardy muttered to his case file.

That’s it? Bloody hell she could’ve sneaked out early so many times if she’d known Hardy didn’t care. Rose huffed, whirled on her heels, and stormed back into the dim empty room without him even noticing. She began angrily stuffing her bag with her belongings. Before she switched her desk light off she spotted her mug and sighed as she admired its contents. Inside the mug sat a single vibrant pink wildflower that Hardy had given her that morning. To be more accurate he thrust it at her without making eye contact, mumbling something about it reminding him of her. When she’d asked him to speak up he simply told her, “happy Friday,” and ghosted into his office. 

Two months ago Hardy had given her a pink and yellow polka dot mug. It was a far happier thing than Rose ever thought Hardy capable of possessing, even if for the short time he had it before giving it to her. He’d wanted to thank her for her hard work, he’d told her at the time. Hardy was a complete git, at times rude, and could scarcely take care of himself. But Rose was beginning to learn he had a softer, lonelier side. She hadn’t pitied the jerk before. But on a night like this he’d probably spend on his own working goodness knew how many more hours, Rose felt a bit sorry for him.

“Hey, I was thinking of popping into the pub down the street for dinner, come join me?” Rose offered while sidling up to Hardy’s desk. 

Hardy’s head shot up, and he stared at her through his thin-framed glasses, soft chocolate fringe curtaining one eye. But he sucked in a deep breath and dove back down to his file. “No, best not. Not tonight, Tyler. Another time.” 

Was this because she turned him down last week? Come off it you knob, Rose thought. She was trying to meet him halfway. The poor man needed a break. And he really was nice. He was the one person in Broadchurch who didn’t care one lick about Rose’s family or her frequent appearances in the media. He cared about good police work and… whatever made him want to ask her out and give her little gifts every week. What if he was actually relaxed outside work (doubtful), or even nicer? She wouldn’t know until she gave it a try. She was willing to give hi a try, if for no other reason to get to know her boss a little better. 

Rose wrapped Hardy’s hand in his. He took in a sharp breath through his nose but relaxed. She pushed back her sting of slight rejection and spoke to the man that could’ve been feeling a bit self-conscious. 

“I want to hang out with you for a little bit, if that’s all right,” Rose softened, echoing his question from last week. “Have a meal with me, and I dunno, whatever happens afterward. Get out of this stuffy office for a bit, yeah?” 

Hardy sat up, then slouched, and finally sat up again before narrowing his eyes at her. He wouldn’t look more shocked if Rose told him she had an invisible third arm. Bless him, Rose thought. Her mum had told her to ask him out. A man she finally approved of. That was a strange notion, and probably contributed slightly to her resistance to him at first. He looked down finally, as if he truly hadn’t realized until then that she had put her hand on his. He grabbed it before she could change her mind and stroked the inside of her palm. His fingers were thin and firm but framed in gentle skin. A lot like him. 

“Yeah, okay,” Hardy croaked. 

They sat in a tucked away corner of the pub eating while Hardy made his best attempts at stoking their conversations back to life. It wasn’t because Rose was tired or starving that she couldn’t focus. Just seeing him come to life in a new way was both adorable and fascinating to her. They didn’t stick around the pub any longer than it took to eat dinner because it was crowded and not as pleasant as Rose had envisioned it when she’d been trying to get through her day earlier. She walked Hardy home and surprised him again when she threaded her fingers in his, gently swaying their hands in time with their feet as he told Rose stories about his daughter when she was a little girl. 

When they reached his little blue shack Hardy complained about Rose heading home alone in the dark. She reminded him she was a cop and was more than capable of handling herself. He still grumbled a bit though, and for that Rose gave him a kiss before dashing off, leaving behind a scruffy pink-faced and stunned DI Hardy in her wake.


End file.
